


Near to Us Once More

by ThisIsMyRPFAccount



Category: Good Omens (TV) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, COVID-19 References, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Reunion Sex, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsMyRPFAccount/pseuds/ThisIsMyRPFAccount
Summary: “It issofucking good to see you.”They stand there grinning at each other like loons, and David starts teasing around the hem of Michael’s jumper again, his eyes glued to Michael’s lips. As if he’s waiting forpermission, as if they haven’t been planning this for months. Michael’s thumb skirts down to press against the corner of David’s mouth and David shivers.“Well come on then, sweetheart,” he gruffs out. “Give us a kiss.”-----David & Michael reunite during The Graham Norton Show
Relationships: Michael Sheen/David Tennant
Comments: 21
Kudos: 89





	Near to Us Once More

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t ever actually _plan_ on writing RPF, but then those pictures of David and Michael sitting very far apart from each other in the same room tore at my heart. And then I was given encouragement, and I’m easy for praise. 
> 
> Title is from “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” bc it’s been in my head since I watched the taping.

Graham’s going on about something with Boris Johnson and fish. Truthfully, Michael isn’t paying attention. He can't keep his eyes off David, not two metres away from him and grinning in a way that makes his heart ache. They haven't even been in the same room for ten minutes - pre-show production times cut short for COVID precautions - and most of that was final sound and camera checks, quick introductions to Daisy and Vanessa, a hello to Graham. David turned to him and had barely gotten out a “It is _fantastic_ to see you, Michael” before they'd started counting down and they both slipped into interview mode. 

Michael never thought he'd be so happy to do something so blessedly normal as Graham fucking Norton. Even if it did take two weeks of strict quarantine and an incredible amount of coordination prior. 

David starts clapping - some joke about a sturgeon? - and turns to face him, his eyes crinkled in mirth. His crooked publicity smile slips into something softer, something real as soon as he catches Michael’s eye, and Michael can't help the grin that pulls at the edge of his lips, his breath catching in his throat. But then David turns back towards Graham, and the moment passes as quickly as it came. 

They joke about seeing each other more than their own families, but it’s true. David calls him from the set of his newest movie either before or after his daily call with Georgia, depending on the kids' schedules. Michael sends David selfies and pictures from catering on _There’s Something About Movies_ , and he can always expect a quick response of “gorgeous xx” or “looks shit. here’s mine x”. They’ve seen every corner of each other’s homes although they’ve never actually visited - a phone or a laptop propped up in every conceivable nook and cranny just so they’re connected as many hours as they possibly can be, chatting about absolutely nothing or even just enjoying the silence of each other, the ambient sounds of their houses (Anna singing, on Michael’s end. The cacophony of seventeen children and Georgia and a dog, on David’s).

Once, David had called him from a spare bedroom under the guise of planning season two of _Staged_ and then whispered in hushed tones that he _really_ needed a nap, and if Michael could just read to him or talk or something as he fell asleep, that would be _wonderful_. 

(“Am I that boring?” Michael teased.

David gave him a flash of a smile, his exhaustion present in every line of his face as he fluffed up the pillow under his head. “Only in the best way.” He paused, his mouth open and forming vowels but not actually saying anything before he settled on: “Falling asleep with you was some of the best I’ve ever gotten. Please?” 

Michael (he had realized very soon after meeting David) can never _actually_ deny him anything, so he picked up the nearest book and read until David fell asleep. Then he watched him for every single one of the twenty-eight minutes he managed to nap with an aching fondness in his chest).

It’s an incredible thing they've found in this magical space between best friendship and lovers, where they understand that partners and children come first, but they're each a close second. Michael loves him, plain and simple. This impossible man who came to him so much later in life than most best friends do, but has been everything he's needed since. 

They talk and see each other nearly every day, but it is nothing compared to seeing David move and smile and laugh in person. Vanessa’s talking about something and David grabs at his ankle where it’s crossed over his knee, picks at a loose thread on his ridiculous, fuzzy snowman jumper that Michael can't wait to slip his hands under. He studies the way David is sitting, all long limbs and lounging in his chair like he's never actually sat upright before (although he’s at least attempting to look like he isn’t a marionette that’s had its strings cut).

Christ, Michael has missed him. 

Graham plays their promo clip from _Staged_. Michael’s seen it a hundred times at this point, but never with David actually in the room. He hears his own voice growl out _slow and decisive revenge_ , and notices with glee that David's ears turn pink, the flush crawling down the back of his neck as he adjusts his position in the seat. Michael waits until Graham turns the attention off the both of them to glance at David, who’s looking back at him with heat in his eyes, worrying his thin bottom lip between his teeth and lowering his gaze to Michael’s own lips. He feels a stir of arousal in his gut, and he quickly turns his attention back to Graham. 

The show flies by - a pity, because Michael has genuinely missed this part of the whole job, strange as it seems, and also a blessing because it means he's that much closer to being alone with David. David recounts his Romeo story - one of the first things he told Michael, back when they were bonding in their trailers during Good Omens. David prompts him for a line, which he provides quickly through reflex of them frequently launching into soliloquies and duologues recited in tandem. And then Michael Ball and Alfie Boe start singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and Michael finds himself humming along under his breath. 

He notices David standing up out of the corner of his eye, waiting to be led away by a producer to another room, but before David actually leaves, Michael feels a familiar hand on his shoulder. His eyes flutter shut as David’s lips move against his ear, his stubble rubbing up against the most sensitive parts of his cheek and jaw. 

“I'll meet you in your dressing room after, yeah?”

Michael only nods, not sure he can turn his head to face David without an Incident, and then another production assistant is moving Michael to the chair where David sat in anticipation of the duet’s end. 

The taping finishes, and he makes quick, distanced small talk with everyone as someone takes off his mic before rushing off to his dressing room, his heart pounding in his chest with excited anticipation. He swings the door to the room open, and there David is, sitting on the couch with one leg tucked up underneath him and looking at his phone. 

He's utterly relaxed, like it feels natural to make himself at home in any of Michael’s spaces, no matter how temporary. His sneakers are already toed off (the man has an aversion to shoes, Michael swears), and he's wearing dark green and red socks - MacDonald colors. 

(They were a gift during the Good Omens press tour - one too many instances of David spending the night in Michael’s hotel room and stealing his socks so Michael didn't complain about cold feet pressed against him under the covers. 

“They're tartan,” he explained. “It's stylish, you see.”

“Think you're pretty clever, don't you?”

“Always, love.” He kissed him then. “But seriously, if I have to feel the fucking icicles you call feet or realize I'm missing half of my socks again by the time I get home, I do think we might have to get a divorce.”)

David looks up at him as soon as he enters the room and smiles that smile that he only seems to reserve for him, Georgia, Billie, and the small handful of people that David has collected as his favorites. He stands up, unfolding his gangling limbs from beneath him.

“Hiya, Michael.”

“Hullo, David.” 

He makes sure the door is locked securely before he strides forward and sweeps David into his arms, holding him tight against his chest like he's never going to let him out of his sight after this. They have a weekend planned, somewhere remote, somewhere _safe_ , and he’ll be damned if he _actually_ lets David out of sight except to piss, and maybe not even then.

They cling to the solid weight of each other - Michael’s arms tight around David’s narrow shoulders, David’s wrapped low around his thick waist - and rock gently back and forth as they just _feel_. David’s taller, but he always manages to tuck himself into Michael’s neck, where he’s nosing along his jaw now. His hands squeeze seemingly at random along Michael’s hips and his back, like he’s just confirming that this is real, that Michael is not only _here_ , but that he’s allowed to _touch_. Michael slips his hand just under David’s collar to rub at the nape of his neck, and David slumps boneless against him, pushing them a few inches until Michael’s back hits the door behind him with an _oof_. 

David pulls back in apology, but Michael just cups his cheek, his eyes darting all over the taller man’s face, rememorizing details that get lost through a screen. David grins sheepishly.

“Sorry. More uh, overwhelming than I anticipated.” 

Michael just smiles. “It is _so_ fucking good to see you.”

They stand there grinning at each other like loons, and David starts teasing around the hem of Michael’s jumper again, his eyes glued to Michael’s lips. As if he’s waiting for _permission_ , as if they haven’t been planning this for months. Michael’s thumb skirts down to press against the corner of David’s mouth and David shivers. 

“Well come on then, sweetheart,” he gruffs out. “Give us a kiss.”

David scrunches his nose and tugs Michael’s hips forward before crashing their lips together.

Kissing David is _fantastic_. There’s an earnestness and a desperation to it every time that makes Michael feel _wanted_ , and he presses back eagerly. David’s lips slide warm and wet over his, little teasing nips and sucks and hums of pleasure as they just enjoy the feel of the thing after a year without. But then Michael moves his hand into David’s hair and pulls _just a little_ to get David groaning into his mouth. He slips his tongue inside to brush against David’s own, and David fists the material of Michael’s jumper in his grasp, makes a whimpering, needy noise and rocks his hips forward. 

“I know we planned on waiting until we got to the cabin,” David breathes out between increasingly wet, open-mouthed kisses, “but I am not going to survive the drive.” He rolls his hips forward to make the point, and Michael groans at the feel of his hardening cock against his own. 

The walk to the couch is less than five feet away, would be absolutely impractical for David to try to wrap his legs around Michael’s waist and have him carry him over there, but that doesn’t mean David doesn’t try. They stumble back and end up with Michael sitting down and David eagerly straddling his waist as he presses kisses to every bit of Michael’s skin he can find.

“This wild, mountain man beard makes kissing your face impossible,” David complains. Michael finally gets his hands up under David’s jumper, presses his thumbs into his back dimples, and encourages David to grind his hips against him. “It’s bloody unkempt.”

Michael gasps in mock outrage and releases his grip from David’s waist, much to David’s keening disappointment. “ _Unkempt_? I’ll have you know men _weep, prostrate themselves_ at the very sight of this beard that serves as a shining beacon of _raw masculinity_.” 

“Oh yes, well, I’m glad people finally have a _beacon_ to follow.,” David grumbles. He grabs Michael’s hands and settles them back on his waist, rubs his thumbs affectionately over Michael’s fingers. “Have a lot of men prostrating themselves in front of you, do you?”

Michael grins, something maybe a little too honest in his eyes. “Only one that matters.”

David ducks his head to hide his own smile and then starts grinding his hips forward, his erection insistent in his trousers. “Come on, get your hands on me. We have to leave soon.”

“So impatient, love,” Michael whispers against his lips, but he is too. Watching David lie back in bed over a laptop screen jerking himself off and crying out Michael’s name is nothing compared to the very real David squirming in his lap and undoing the flies of their trousers. David palms at Michael’s hard cock through his underwear, the touch radiating hot through his limbs, and pulls his own out, already setting a quick pace and panting with his head tilted back. 

Michael watches in rapture for a moment as the slick, red head of David’s dick pushes in and out of the tight fist he’s made, his mouth watering at the sight and the realization that he’s going to be spending _three entire days_ with this man hits him suddenly. He knocks David’s hands out of the way and pulls his own underwear down before taking their cocks and stroking them together in his broad palm. David keens and buries his nose against Michael’s cheek as he moves his hand faster around them both. 

“‘M close,” David gasps against him.

“This is the only ugly sweater I packed--”

“Oh, I doubt that very much.”

Michael smacks his arse and David yelps in protest, but his hips buck forward into Michael’s grip.

“So don’t _come_ on it. We still need to actually leave the studio.”

David bites at his earlobe in retaliation. “Then figure something out, _Michael_.” 

Michael pushes David away from him, and figures out positioning before lifting up under David’s thigh. 

“Sit up, get your knee on the back of the couch. I want you to fuck my face.” 

David eagerly scrambles up, takes a moment to realize this is _not_ going to work in his jeans, and awkwardly maneuvers himself to slip one leg out while avoiding hitting Michael in the face with his cock or an errant knee. Michael just raises his eyebrows in amusement as David finally gets into position.

“I do so love watching you flop about like a fish before sex.”

“These old knees aren’t what they used to be,” David grumbles.

“I don’t remember fucking you when you had young knees, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

David runs his fingers through Michael’s curls, scratching his nails along his scalp, and Michael practically _purrs_ into it. He takes David’s cock in hand and rubs it along his lips, the velvet glide of his precome smearing just along the seam there. David pushes forward and they both groan at the familiar intrusion. Michael hasn’t had a cock (well, not a real one) in his mouth since the last time he sucked David off, and that’s a _shame_. David’s cock is _big_ and he’s missed the way it stretches his mouth, slides heavy and thick along his tongue before it almost nudges the back of his throat. He bobs his head eagerly as David tightens his grip on his hair and pushes forward in shallow thrusts. 

“Oh, _brilliant, brilliant_ idea, love. It’s good to remember that your mouth can do other things besides just run itself off.” David cries out as Michael slaps his arse again. He runs his palm down David’s bare thigh, his calf, just savoring the feel of leg hair under his palm. He dips his finger under the seam of David’s socks and then moves his hand back up to knead at David’s arse and push him forward. David’s panting is coming in quick now and Michael takes himself in hand so they come at the same time. 

“God, I’ve missed this. Missed you so much,” David whispers breathlessly. “Can’t wait until we’re in a bed - I want you to pin me down and fuck me as many times as you want. I can take it. Can always take it when it’s you.”

He’d almost forgotten how shameless in his need David gets, and it goes straight to dick, precome leaking from his tip and gliding his hand up and down his length in tight strokes. 

Michael hollows his cheeks as David thrusts into his willing mouth over and over and speeds up the hand on his cock. It takes some careful maneuvering to not disrupt this fragile balance they’ve found - David kneeling on the couch and over his face, his other leg tucked tight against Michael’s shoulder - but he slips his fingers between David’s cheeks, presses his finger just against his entrance, a tease of what’s to come. David claps his hand over his mouth as he groans loudly.

“Fuck, Michael, Michael, _Michael_ \--” David comes down his throat and his hands tighten in Michael’s hair. He can’t believe he missed even the way David’s _come tastes_. The pain of David’s death grip in his hair is what sends Michael over the edge as well, his palm cupped under the head of his cock so he doesn’t come on his jumper and hear David’s insufferable teasing about it the entire drive to the cabin. 

David slides back down into his lap and cradles Michael’s face in his hands, resting their foreheads together, and a satisfied smile playing at his lips. They sit and catch their breath, trading languid, affectionate kisses as they come down from their orgasm high. Michael clears his throat.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this, because I am, but I am currently holding a palmful of come and would love to not be doing that.” 

David leans over to grab a handful of tissues from the table next to the couch and passes them to Michael. Michael quickly cleans himself up and tosses the tissues aside. David’s hands come back up to hold his face still, and he kisses the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“Love you,” he whispers. Michael’s heart clenches and he kisses David back.

“Love you too, sweetheart. Now come on - someone’s going to come looking for us soon and I need to get you out of this fuzzy snowman monstrosity as soon as possible.”


End file.
